Those Were The Days
by Nebelwerfer42
Summary: Marie reflects on the life she has lead till now and considers her future. [M for Sexual Content]
1. Chapter 1

AN

Disclaimer: Don't own, yada yada.

Another story of mine that has been archived elsewhere, this was an almost song fic, all lyrics have been removed to comply with policies.

This is in three parts. Smut warning for the last part.

* * *

She still remembers the day she met him, by that snowy town, in that crazy bar. She was so young then, just recently left the only home she had ever known. To her he seemed larger than life, inside that steel cage, bare-chested, glistening with sweat, a body sculpted out of marble. He radiated power, ferocity, sexuality, she couldn't help but be mesmerized. She was so innocent still, following him out of that bar and sneaking into his camper. But the flash of metal claws was all she needed. Her only thought at the time was He is like me.

She felt a connection, they felt a connection. Inside that run down camper she opened up to a stranger she barely spoke several words to, and yet it all felt so right. He is the only one that ever knew her name. Their connection, however faint it is now, is still there, she can still feel it, even after all this time. She had her friends, Kitty, Jubes, they stuck together even after their stint as members of the X-Men. She has the school, where she has taught for the past fifteen years. She is loved by her friends, adored by her students. Her child is now grown, her house is now empty, with each passing year she feels emptier, more alone than ever before.

Her life has been better than she expected, back when she was still a teenage runaway, but not what she wanted. She married Remy, they have a wonderful beautiful daughter together, a tumultuous, but exciting marriage. Despite Remy's unfaithfulness, which comes as no surprise, it's part of who he is, after all, she remained friends with him even after their separation. It is during those hard times Kitty had asked a question, a question that now shook her to her core.

"Look, Marie," Kitty said, eyes piercing her. "You accept his cheating so casually, how much of what you feel for Remy is really love?"

"Of course I love Remy, I wouldn't have married him, had a child with him, and stayed with him if I didn't love him?" She brushed it off then, but now, when she thinks of it, when she sits alone in her bedroom, she can finally admit it, she settled.

* * *

When she was younger, before things got complicated, she knew exactly what she wanted, Logan. During those first chaotic years at the school, he was never far from her mind and always stayed in her heart. She dreamed frequently then, of the life she would have with him, a house in the suburbs, the white picket fences, a girl and a boy, a cat, and a dog. She dreamt of the wedding they would have, the honeymoon they'd go on, even the arguments they would have, and the wonderful makeup sessions after.

She is not sure when those dreams started to fade, but little by little it was chipped away till it finally disappeared. As much of a connection they felt towards each other, the world made its damnedest effort to remind them that what they had was wrong, and somewhere along the way she believed it.

She tried to distance herself from him. Hang out more with people her age, even got herself a boyfriend or two. Jean practically lectured her on the inappropriateness of her relationship with him. Scott would simply frown in disapproval whenever he caught them together alone. The worst was the Professor, who was like a father to her; he would shake his head and smile sadly, saying that he would support her choice, even if he disagreed. Through it all, Logan took it in strides, untouched by the controversy swirling around them. He stood by her, when she was pressured, hanged out with her when she was bored, comforted her when she was sad, never pushing the boundaries, he was just there.

His presence added to her confusion, many times she wished he just straight up take the decision out of her hands, for him to just come out and say it.

"Marie," He would get down on one knee, she believed, and pour his heart out to her, "you're my girl, you belong to me, we belong to each other, and I love you!"

It never happened, it doesn't surprise her now, Logan was not that kind of a guy, not one for fancy words or dramatic declarations, the fact that he stayed was proof enough of his love. She was too young to understand then, and slowly the pressure reached a breaking point, and she let him slip away. It took years, but finally, after she announced her engagement to Remy, he started coming to the school less and less, until one day, without her even realizing it he stopped coming back.

* * *

Married life was exciting at first, but somewhere deep down, she always knew, she settled. It must have been the reason why she married Remy, the resident Casanova. She was sure he would never actually fall for her, after all, this was Remy, he had beautiful women by the dozen, moving between one bed and another like a spring breeze. Yet somehow it happened, it took her a few years to realize it, but he fell in love with her.

Sometime after their daughter was born he admitted it to her. She greeted the news as if nothing changed, she still acted the same way towards him, still allowed him his indiscretions. Looking back she knew she hurt him with her actions, but there was no helping it, even if she was consciously ignoring it, deep down in her heart she knew she would never feel the same way about him, the way he does for her, after all, he wasn't Logan.

After twenty years, they finally called it quits, after a particular angry argument, Remy implored her to reconsidered, but she finally discovered a part of herself, and decided she had hurt him long enough, she has been hurting long enough. They entered into a marriage expecting something simple, one of convenience, but something happened, he changed. He wanted more, more of her feelings, more of her heart. She could and had given him many things, but her feelings, her heart, she could not give.

* * *

She sits in another bar, Kitty and Jubes dragged her out for a ladies night out. They said she had been very glum lately and that a little girl time would be just what she needs to get out of her funk. She can't tell them, to their bright and happy faces that the only thing that can get her out of her funk, is probably in the Canadian wilderness, all caught up with a wife and children by now.

They surprise her one day, Jubes convinces her husband Piotr to let them take the blackbird. In a few short hours the trio sit in the bar of her memories, in Laughlin City. The place looks the same, the bartender so much older; she is so much older, even if it does not show, another piece of Logan still tangled inside her.

Half a dozen drinks later, the three friends move to a booth, partly for a more comfortable seat and mostly to avoid the over friendly men that cycle through the bar. A familiar sensation fills the bar, it is tension, mixed with excitement, a buzzing in the background that she can not help but respond to. Then she hears it over the noise of the crowd.

"Tonight, from the great white north, still undefeated! Still champion! Still the King of the Cage! The Wolverine!"

She almost leaps out of her seat, mouth open, nearly spilling her drink in the process. She looks at her friends one question in her eyes. They both shrug their shoulders and smile at her. The crowd cheers and she think she sees a wide expanse of a familiar back, and wild dark hair. With her breath caught in her throat, she sees the man lifts his head, sniffing the air, then ever so slowly turns toward her.

* * *

Their eyes meet, just briefly through the smoky haze, the steely hazel gaze sends a shiver down her spine. Standing inside the cage he looks exactly the same, bare chest, glistening with sweat, a body sculpted out of marble. But she has changed so much now; she is no longer young, no longer innocent. She is a woman full grown, with a lifetime of experiences and struggles; she has the scars to prove it too. She couldn't help it, that connection, the one that she felt from the moment she met him, roared back in full force, and she thinks, she hopes that he still feels it too.

The bell rings in the cage and he tears his gaze away from her. She can't believe how wonderful he looks, teeming with power, ferocity, sexuality, just like the first time. He practically leaps at his opponent, all animal, all rage. Muscles rippling, fist flying, with a roar he knocks the other man off his feet and pummels him as he falls. She stands there staring into the ring, marveling at his intensity. It stirs something within her, and she remembers, back then, in all the time they spend together, that intensity was there, whenever they were together he always made her feel she was the only one that mattered in the world.

She runs her hand down her side to smooth out her skirt; picking up a shot of whiskey, smiling at her grinning friends, with their drinks raised, yelling out encouragements to her. With hope bubbling inside her heart, she takes the first step towards the cage and the first step toward her future, a future she wishes to spend with him.

* * *

Up next Logan looks back on these two decades.


	2. Chapter 2

AN

A look from Logan's perspective.

* * *

He lies on the motel bed, staring out towards the frosted window, watching idly as the occasional car passes by. Every day, over the last two decades he's contemplated returning to the mansion, returning to Marie. Yet he always decides to wait, not yet trusting himself to see her, his Marie in the arms of that Cajun. He doesn't want to begrudge her happiness, Logan of all people knows she deserves it, so he keeps on moving, never stopping for more than a few days. Hoping that if he runs far enough, fast enough he can leave the more complicated thoughts behind.

So he ran, he left via Nova Scotia. Caught a freighter to Murmansk, wanting some excitement in his life, excitement enough to keep him moving, to keep him from his thoughts of Marie. He spent years in Africa drifting from one war to the next, a few years in Europe guarding one famous person or another, for many years he wandered through all four corners of the world, always running, never stopping.

Finally after two long decades he returned to Canada, purely on a whim. His five-year trek across Asia following the more intense competitions there ended with him as the undisputed champion. Unfortunately after what the Far East had to offer, full contact, the hundred plus men, free-for-all in a grand arena, the cage fights here are almost like a vacation. Reluctantly dragging himself out of bed, he dresses himself, worn leather jacket, frayed jeans and an old white t-shirt.

It is the worst on snowy nights like these, where running is not enough, that's when he ventures out into the night, looking for ways to bring some feeling into his life. That usually meant boozing, fucking or fighting, and he has done his share of all three. Now though fighting is what he prefers. It's what gets his pulse racing, his heart pounding and his mind to forget.

He finishes the last of his leftover Chinese takeout and stares at the large map pinned to the wall. There's only one match this evening, autumn is near its end, the fighting season is just about done. And soon it would be his time to leave, no more fights, no more traveling, just him, a cabin, and the great wilderness. He is tired of running, so very tired, he is ready to confront himself at last, ready to admit that she is gone.

For the years after Marie was married, he clung to the memories of her, of them together. It was what kept him going, but little by little her memories started to fade. At first, he cursed himself for not keeping mementos of their time together, no pictures, no trinkets, nothing. He of all people should have known that memories are unreliable, that they change as the years roll by. Perhaps the worst part of it all is that back then he never expected them to be apart. He never realized the depth of his feeling for her, till she'd already left him behind, and by then he didn't really want to keep any of those memories.

He missed the days he spent with her, her easy laughter, her kindness, her enthusiasm for life. He missed the days they spent lazing about the mansion, the nights they spent huddle in front of the TV, each to avoid a nightmare of their own. He missed the Saturdays at the beach, Sundays at the park, the weekday afternoons they spent training in the danger room. He missed all those days he had with her and realized each of those days are long gone.

As more and more memories fade, he got angrier with himself, angry that he did not realize what they had before he lost it, angry that he was not good enough of a man to be happy for her, angry that he wasn't man enough to be there with her, angry that there won't be any new memories of her, angry that he is unable to hold on to what little of her he has left.

Now after two decades, the only memories remaining are of her face. Memories of how she used to smile at him, how her eyes sparkled wherever she saw him. He used to see her every day, in the crowds at the cage matches, the faceless people he passed on the streets, in his dreams on restless nights. But now even that is fading, with every new day her features are fuzzier, her expression are blurrier, her laughter ever more distant. He is not sure how much longer he can hold onto them before time sweeps it all away.

It is fitting, in a strange way to end his journey here, where he first met her, in this cage when she first saw him. Standing in it, his sees his opponent, inexperienced, unskilled, weak, it won't take much to put him down. But he wants to make this fight last, he needs to make this fight last. It had been a mistake to return to Canada. There are too many memories here, the cage matches he so fondly remembered are not enough, not enough intensity, not enough blood, not enough pain. Because for one more night he wants to keep those memories away, for one more night he wants to pretend she is still his.

Even now he catches her scent in the air, over the sweat, the alcohol, the smoke, she still smells sweets, wonderful, no matter how much time has passed she still smells like the first time he met her. And when his eyes sweep the bar, and he thinks he caught those soulful brown eyes, red luscious lips, all framed by glittering silver streaks. But he can't be sure, since his return he has seen her, smelled her, everywhere, in so many different places, at all hours of the day and not once had she actually been there.

The scent is driving him into a frenzy, it has never been so intense before, so real. He chuck it off to the location, this is where they met after all. Of Course his senses would be in overdrive imagining things that don't exist. For the first time since he returned he lets himself loose, all thoughts of prolonging the fight forgotten. All that remains is the urgent need to finish this fight, so he can leave, to confront this reality and move on with his life.

He charges his opponent with a roar, his full fury unleashed in an instant, ramming into the poor man like a freight train. His years of training, hundreds of techniques paid for by blood, forgotten. The animal pounds at his opponent, like an unrelenting storm. When they finally stop the fight, barely thirty seconds in, he stands victorious over his opponent's battered and bruised body. A strange sense of accomplishment surges within him, he is the superior male, everyone here now knows it. Now he just has to claim his mate.

And she is there again, so close now. Just on the other side of the cage, one hand clutching the steel bars. She looks as delicious as she did the first time he saw her. Her voluptuous form filled out even more, now sinfully curvaceous. Encased in a tight little black dress, that leaves little to the imagination. She looks more beautiful than ever, cascading long chestnut hair, outlined by two streaks of silver. Her chocolate eyes, ruby red lips, innocent yet sexy, familiar yet different, she stands before him, real for the first time since he cares to remember.

He stalks towards her, taking in more of her intoxicating scent with each breath, he gives her his trademark grin, when he sees her trembling almost backing away, but she stands her ground. He grasps the bars just next to her hand and rips a section of the steel cage free, the loud sound of grinding metal draws everyone's attention, silencing the entire room. But in his eyes there is no one else, before she can back away, he wraps her up with one arm, crushing her against him. His lips descend onto hers, silencing whatever protest she might have mustered, his tongue presses against her lips, demanding and devouring. He feels her relax against him, her nails scraping against his chest. His free hand runs down her side lifting one of her legs and grinding her sex against the pressure in his jeans.

After what seems like forever, he finally breaks the kiss and grins at the flustered look on her face. Without warning he hoists her over his shoulders and walks toward the door, the crowd parts before him. Stopping only to grab her coat he takes her straight to his SUV and secures her into the passenger seat. Marie seems to finally start recovering from her shock when he starts the car.

"Logan?" She calls out to him tentatively, her eyes seeking his.

"Why are you here?" He knows the answer but he asks anyway. The question is practically growled out, the effect on her is quick and obvious by the scent of her arousal.

"I'm taking some time off, I kinda figured-"

Her absentminded reply is quickly cut off by him. "How long?"

"A month or so, till the new semester starts," she continues on distractedly, before realizing that the car is pulling out of the parking lot "Wait, Logan! Where are we going?"

"My place, it's quite, secluded and has a big sturdy bed."Logan manages to suppress the growling this time, with her in his car, their scents mixing in the confined space, he feels much calmer, much more fulfilled.

Marie flashes him one of her brilliant smiles, smiles he has been missing for a long time, then she takes his free hand, interlacing their fingers together and leans back into her seat. Logan barely catches her whisper, "That sounds great, sounds cozy."

* * *

Thanks for the reviews.

Up next: I think we all know where this is heading...


	3. Chapter 3

A light touch crawls up and down her inner thigh, just one finger. She shifts in her dreams, and her legs part just slightly. A kiss trails up her shoulder, stopping at the perfect spot where her shoulder meets her neck. She moans, tilting her head exposing her neck to more intense kisses. Another hand roams up from her stomach, lightly grazing over her breast, a palm presses against her sensitive nipple, fingers coming together around it, slowly teasing it to attention.

"Mmmm… Logan?" She moans out, arching her back, trying to push her nipple into those skillful fingers.

"Yes, Darling?" His low tenor vibrates through her, and she feels herself slicken between her legs when he gently tugs on an earlobe with his teeth. The first-hand cups her mound, two fingers part her moist folds, another finger slowly trace a pattern near her aching bundle of nerves.

"We just made love a little while ago." Despite her protests she grinds her hips into his touches. "We did it four times…"

She is still a bit sore from the frantic lovemaking last night, their last night here in the cabin. They were both insatiable, they writhed against each other, with fierce passion, finally passing out in each other's arm. He raises his head away from where he was nipping her neck, apparently still unsatisfied, his erection rigid and hot pressing against her. "Just one more time, before you leave."

He crawls over her and sweeps over her plump bottom lip with his tongue, then nudges her mouth open, drawing her into a kiss. Breaking the kiss he tugs on her lower lip with this teeth, before kissing down to her chest. His mouth finds its way to her other breast. With great care and skill, he lures her other nipple into his mouth, nipping at it with quick light bites, before soothing it with a twirl of his tongue.

Marie squirms under his skillful ministrations, finally fully awaken from her sleep. "Logan?! Wait… I-I need to get ready to go."

Even as she complains, her fingers brush through his wild mane, then rake his wide muscular back. He gives a satisfied growl, before kissing lower, past her stomach and reaching the apex of her thighs, his hand splays over her upper thighs, parting them with little resistance. His rough tongue licks the length of her, her hips rise of their own accord.

A warm hand presses against her belly, controlling its movements, while his tongue finds its way to the peak of her sex lazily circling against her clit. Two finger slowly nudge her opening, slipping inside, they curl up against a bundle of nerves just past the entrance, and press languid strokes against it.

"Oh god, Logan!" Her entire body tenses, her hands grasping his wild hair tight. He maintains his relaxed pace keeping her just tittering on the edge.

"Logan, please!" she moans out, her body beginning to lose control. She feels him smile before he draws her clitoris into his mouth his rough tongue circling, licking, increasing the pressure. Her vision goes white when she feels his fingers push against that spot, and she screams, stars flashing all around her.

When she finally comes to, she is met by his light kisses, the scent of them mixed on his lips. She feels his cock press against her entrance, sliding in as he deepens the kiss, she shifts her hips to accommodate his girth, moaning into his mouth, their tongues dancing together. She gasps when he pulls out of her, at the same time he breaks the kiss. He plunges back in fully with one stroke. He buries his head into the crook of her neck. She hears him muffle against her, "Marie, love you so much."

She arches into his thrusts, relaxing and letting her legs fall apart, wrapping her arms around him, pulling his body tight against her. "Love you too sugar."

He starts to grind against her, still buried deep inside. She moans with every push of his hips, he clutches her tight still whispering, how much he loves her, how much he missed her, how happy he is now that she is with him.

She kisses his sideburns, her hands gently caressing his back and thighs. She arches against him matching his rhythm, and she whispers soothing words into his ear.

"That it sugar, mmm... just like that."

His deliberate, measured strokes, fan the flames within her. His mouth focuses on her lips and neck, before dipping to take a nipple into his mouth. She finds herself tensing, her inner walls fluttering around his member. Her nails leaving short lived scratches on his back. He switches his rhythm, grinding his pelvis against her with every thrust, while rolling a nipple lightly between his fingers, then just as she can't take the sensation anymore he gives her neck a sharp nip. She feels a wave of sensation sweep over her, that comes crashing down. She writhes wildly under him, he lifts her off the bed holding her close, fucking her through her climax.

"Marie! I can't-" His pace quickens, each stroke pushing deeper inside her. His hands grasp the headboard, desperately kissing her, she locks her still trembling legs behind his back, shifting her tingling body so she can receive him even deeper than before. One of her hands reach down between them, and finds her clit, stroking it rapidly, hoping to find her release again, together with him this time. He suddenly roars and stills above her, she feels him pulse deep inside her. Her fingers work feverishly against her clit and she comes undone as surge of warmth accompanies each of his final erratic thrusts.

He collapses against her, he automatically shifts slightly so the bulk of his weight rest on one of his legs and arms. She lays there underneath him, breathless, feeling his heartbeat return to normal. She can see sleep finally claiming him, he manages to kiss her one last time before he finally rests.

Slowly she runs her hands through his hair, while the first light of the morning shimmers through the bedroom window. She's spent a blissful month with him in this cabin, having never felt as right as she does now, lying here with him in her arms. After the almost frenzied lovemaking of the first few days, they settled quickly into a warm and comfortable routine, almost as if there wasn't twenty some years since their last meeting.

This short respite is nearing its end, classes at the school start today. Someone should be on their way to pick her up right now. She planned on leaving yesterday, completely packed before noon. She was just about to call for her ride when he asked for just a little more time, she agreed. They ended up staying in bed for the rest of the day, and now she is still reluctant to leave. She wanted to wake up with him, face the morning together, cooking breakfast together, she wanted them to return to the mansion together.

She knows how unreasonable she is being, he has business to finish here. Things he can't do till spring. After being apart all these years she finds it funny that she is so shaken by a few more months of separation. She reluctantly slips away from his warmth, rising off the bed, she sees his hand sleepily searching for her. Her hand returns to his hair, drawing lazy circles on his scalp till he mumbles quietly, falling back to sleep.

Standing before the bathroom mirror she examines the new markings on her skin from their most recent activities. He had been surprisingly gentle, keeping himself controlled till the very end. Stepping into the cascade of hot water, her hands roam her own body helping to sooth the pleasant ache in her muscles.

Properly dressed, Marie takes a sip of her coffee and checks her watch. It is almost time, she washes up her dishes and covers the large breakfast of ham, bacon, eggs and pancake she made just for him. She smiles when she sees her luggage had already been placed on the porch.

She puts on the rest of her accessories and retouches her lips stick. Leaning over his sleeping form she presses a kiss to his cheek, leaving behind an imprint of her lips. "Sweet dreams, sugar."

Logan stirs slightly before her hand soothes him back into his dreams. She hears his mumbling this time. "Marie... Darlin…"

She walks out of the cabin, and waves at the two approaching figures in black leather. The Asian woman speaks first, her eyebrows rising suggestively. "So did you have fun?"

"Jubes!" The woman with the long brown hair brings her hands to her mouth in shock.

"What? They were in a cabin, in the middle of nowhere, with only one bed. I know what they did, you know what they did, she knows what they did." The Asian woman taps a finger against Marie's chest.

"Oh, I had plenty of fun, Jubes, and come this summer I'll be having even more fun!" Marie gives both her friends a wink and starts walking towards the blackbird, her luggage floating behind her.

"Wait, his coming back?! Marie wait!"

* * *

That's it, thanks for reading.


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